Greg ignored her and finally leveled his gaze on Ivy. There was hatred hidden in that gaze, to the point where an involuntary shudder ran up Ivy’s spine. “I need someone to volunteer to forego their break, run into the woods, and reclaim the box I was forced to leave there yesterday ... when our afternoon was unceremoniously interrupted.”
Ivy had no doubt who he wanted to volunteer, and she instantly hated the idea. “Um ... .”
“I can get the box,” Alison offered. She wasn’t even watching the interaction. She was too busy fanning herself. The sun was starting to beat down on them, and even though summers in northern Lower Michigan were often mild, there were days when the humidity became an issue. Today was one of those days.
“I didn’t ask you to get the box,” Greg shot back.
“You didn’t ask for anybody specific to get it,” Alison challenged. “You asked for volunteers. I volunteered.”
“Ivy is going to get the box,” Greg countered, his tone clipped. “She wants to do it. Isn’t that right?”
Ivy was caught and she knew it. “Sure. I would love to get the box.” She swallowed hard, her eyes going to the foliage on the far side of the work area. There was nothing there to focus on and yet she looked all the same. “I’ll do it right now.”
“That would be great.”
Ivy dragged her feet walking toward the woods, making sure to glance over her shoulder every few seconds. She’d already made up her mind: if anyone followed her, she would start running. She would rather survive and have more community service tacked onto her sentence — even if it meant postponing her honeymoon — than risk dying in the middle of nowhere. To her relief, no one followed.
Alison was right about temperatures being cooler once she stepped underneath the foliage-laden boughs. She took a moment to collect herself, breathe in deeply, and glance back at the location where she’d left Greg. He remained on the ground, in the exact same spot. That was enough to propel her to start searching for the box.
He would have to be an idiot to follow her into the trees and attack her with so many witnesses only a few feet away, she told herself. He was just lording his power over her. He didn’t want to kill her. Besides, he had no motive. She still couldn’t puzzle out that part of Marvin’s story. Why would Greg want to kill Sasha?
As if she sensed Ivy was thinking about her, the shadow that had once been Sasha Carmichael oozed out of the trees. She floated directly in front of Ivy, a good ten feet away, and smirked when Ivy ceased walking forward.
“What took you so long?” she asked dryly.
Ivy’s mouth went dry. It was one thing to talk to the shadow in her dreams — she had control of that environment, could wake up at any time — but quite another to deal with her in real life. She knew from past experience that just because somebody was dead, that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.
“Hello.” It was a stupid greeting, but Ivy didn’t know what else to say.
Sasha arched an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“That’s because I’m not.” Ivy licked her lips and rolled her neck before taking a determined two steps forward. That was close enough to be able to gauge Sasha’s facial expressions without putting herself in immediate danger. “You came to me in a dream last night.”
“Is that so?” Sasha looked intrigued. “I don’t remember that.”
“That’s because I’m pretty sure I made you up ... mostly.”
“And yet here I am, although not in the flesh.”
“Not in the flesh,” Ivy agreed. “In the soul, though.”
“Yes, well ... .” Sasha pursed her lips, an expression Ivy was certain she’d carried over from life when upset … or annoyed. “You’re in trouble. You realize that, right?”
Ivy sensed that and yet she wasn’t yet sure how it was all going to play out. “Why would you want to warn me?” She was honestly curious. “You have a dark soul. You don’t want to help anyone but yourself. Even bad people who do a few good deeds to offset the potential bad don’t have a soul that looks like yours.”
“I like how you’re an expert on my soul.” Sasha’s comment was pointed ... and then she heaved out a sigh. “I’m not trying to help you. I’m trying to hurt them.”
That made sense, Ivy realized. The woman didn’t care what happened to her. She wanted revenge on those who had wronged her. “Wait ... them?” Ivy wrinkled her nose at the exact same moment a twig broke behind her. On instinct, she jumped to the left to avoid the branch that was being swung at her head.
The move worked. She landed on the hard ground next to a tree and rolled, her eyes going wide when she saw who was wielding the branch. “Betsy?” She was breathless as she tried to wrap her head around the new development.
“Oh, why did you have to duck?” Betsy complained, raising the branch for a second attack. “I didn’t want to have to look you in the eye before doing this. Believe it or not, I like you.”
“You like me?” Ivy was incredulous. “All evidence seems to point to the contrary.”
Betsy bobbed her head. “I truly do like you. That doesn’t mean I’m okay with you sticking your nose in this. I mean ... why? Couldn’t you just mind your own business?”
Ivy’s mind was jumbled. She couldn’t figure out what was happening. When she flicked her eyes to Sasha, she found the ghost practically vibrating with rage as she glared at Betsy.
“Kill her,” Sasha ordered, clenching and unclenching her hands into fists at her sides. Obviously she hadn’t realized that, if she directed her energy hard enough, she would be able to attack the woman herself. She hadn’t been a ghost long enough to figure it
